


the closer I move

by thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Birthday, Canon Universe, Character Death, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reylo Fanfiction Anthology, and feelings, featuring the one true space emo, poor traumatized space children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2019-01-07 05:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12226596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriarLily/pseuds/thewayofthetrashcompactor
Summary: “How old are you?” Doctor Kalonia asks perfunctorily, repeating the question. Rey has that feeling again of being separate from the world she’s landed in. The way the doctor asks is in the way she’d asked for her name, another question that should have been a quick and easy answer.“I was on Jakku for five thousand and ninety eight days,” she says, not looking at the doctor, trying to say this as if it’s a clear answer. Dr. Kalonia blinks, but to her credit, shows little other signs of surprise.She clears her throat. “That’s since you were… left there, yes?” Abandoned, she doesn’t say.





	1. The louder the sun blooms

**Author's Note:**

> So, my piece for this year's anthology ended up being a standalone excerpt that I've written a longer story around. The anthology piece is **chapter three** , if you'd just like to read that. The rest of the chapters will be uploaded weekly (as long as I remember >_<).
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone involved in the anthology. You are all wonderful people who have made this an amazing experience. I'm constantly impressed by all of your creativity and dedication. <3

The worst part of the many worst parts of the day Rey was left on Jakku was that it eclipsed any other memory she might have had of the parents who left her there. She'd spent years there trying to cling to what they look like, what it was like to live with a family, but all she had was the vague memory of being tucked into a bed, her name, and that day. On the worst nights, when she stared too long at the wall of tally marks, she wondered if she had forgotten more than she even wanted to admit to herself. It didn't escape her notice that the name on the helmet she treasured was remarkably similar to her own. Had she forgotten, after too long being called 'girl' and scavenged her name, losing another piece of herself to the desert?

She dreamed of her parents coming back and recognizing her. Claiming her. Telling her who she was, besides one more lost thing on a barren planet. In the meantime, she scratched each day off, the turn of every passing year marked only by a deeper groove in the metal of her home.

The doctor clears her throat, drawing Rey's attention back to the present. "Just Rey?" she asks kindly, her holopad held in front of her expectantly as she records what she can from Rey and the machines around her.

Rey nods and looks around the infirmary restlessly, eyes lingering on where Finn is being kept in a bacta pod. Her heart pangs, and she has the urge to run from the bed, to hunt down Kylo Ren herself, or to go find Luke Skywalker and force him to help her, but she knows from experience that the doctor will not be deterred from her examination. Besides, she had promised the general to sit through this.

The doctor leans over a monitor next to her bed, coming between her view of Finn, and she tears her eyes away to examine the rest of the room. 

Numbers haunt her as she explores. They had ruled her life on Jakku, from how many pieces she could scavenge in a day, how far she could travel, how much water she had, how many days a storm would last, how many portions she could get for each piece snatched from the desert, and how many days were on her wall. She couldn't help but imagine how much each piece of equipment in the infirmary would be worth, or how long it would have fed her for on Jakku. She'd estimated the meal they'd given her earlier was six portions, at least. It had hurt to choke it all down but she had, aside from the couple portions worth she had wrapped and tucked into the side of her bed when the droid who delivered it turned away.

Dr. Kalonia speaks again, and jolting Rey back to her surroundings. She's looking at her expectantly, and Rey looks back blankly. "How old are you?" she asks perfunctorily, repeating the question, and Rey has that feeling again of being separate from the world she's landed in. The way the doctor asks this question is in the way she'd asked for her name, another question that should have been a quick and easy answer.

Rey looks down, fiddling with the sheets. Even they would have been worth something on Jakku. "I was on Jakku for five thousand and ninety eight days," she says, not looking at the doctor, trying to say this as if it's a clear answer to the question. Dr. Kalonia blinks, but to her credit, shows little other signs of surprise.

She clears her throat. "That's since you were... left there, yes?" Abandoned, she doesn't say. "Do you know how old you were then?"

Rey shakes her head, tears burning at the corners of her eyes. It's a stupid thing to be upset over, much less to be wasting water crying over, but it's another piece of her identity she doesn't have, and it's been an exhausting couple of days. She clears her throat, trying to keep her voice even. "I think five."

Doctor Kalonia nods matter of factly. "And you don't know where you lived before then, correct?" Rey shakes her head again. The doctor types a few things on her pad. "Since the years on Jakku are slightly longer than a standard year, that would place you at about twenty years old, which seems accurate."

Rey blinks. In some unmarked day on Jakku, she had reached her second decade, and not realized it. She feels a little more lost at the thought.

"We have to put a birthday for record keeping purposes. Do you have a specific day you'd like to use?" Rey stares at her blankly, and she smiles sympathetically. "I believe we have your friend's over there as a couple days ago, on the advice of Commander Dameron," she says, nodding at Finn. "We can put that for you as well if you'd like."

Rey is about to nod, then holds back. She thinks of Finn, one stormtrooper in thousands. He'd run away with nothing, not even a name until Poe had given it to him. She doesn't want to take his birthday from him. She shakes her head instead. Doctor Kalonia nods. "Alright, any particular time of year you're partial to? The first of the year is what we usually give to those without a birthday, but it might be nice for you to have your own day." Rey nods. "How about in a couple months?" She looks at her pad. "The anniversary of the Concordance is coming up, how about that?"

Rey agrees, and thinks vaguely of the idea of celebrating a birthday. It's a strange idea, giving herself her own birthday, another step in creating her own person and further away from the parents she might have once had.

People had birthdays on Jakku, celebrating another year of staying alive against all odds. It usually meant indulging in the burning, near-toxic moonshine sold at Niima Outpost, something she'd never tried herself. She saw what it did to those who drank it and she couldn't afford any lapses in concentration or threats to her health, let alone the portions she would have to sacrifice. She had tried celebrating a birthday once, when she was younger, but the only special day she had was the anniversary of being left on her own, and the only nice things she had were what she scavenged from the desert that weren’t worth anything. She tried dressing up her portion for the night, but all it did was remind her of what the day she was celebrating really meant. She abandoned the effort quickly and went to bed early.

"Perfect," Doctor Kalonia says with finality. She lowers her pad and looks at Rey. "Okay, I'm going to release you, but - " she adds hastily as Rey starts throwing the sheets off of herself, "you need to take it easy; your body is still healing." She snorts, then mutters under her breath, "Though why I bother saying that to anyone on this base, I don't know." Louder, she continues. "Especially with food, your body needs time to adjust." Rey nods, fidgeting, and Doctor Kalonia looks at her suspiciously. She sighs. "The General left clothes for you," she says and pulls out a stack of blue-gray fabric from drawer and places it on Rey's bed, then leaves.

Once she's gone, Rey doesn't stay still for long.


	2. Heaven that never was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing Luke, space hermit extraordinaire

Rey settles in front of her fire and rips open another one of the rations packs from the case she brought with her to Ahch-To. She'd tried scavenging for herself on the island, but hadn't managed to turn up anything. She'd asked Luke what was edible on the wet pile of rocks (besides the porgs, which she didn't quite have the heart to eat, not while she still had rations left.) He'd mumbled some vague directions about certain plants, more than he usually spoke, but was still his usual reclusive self.

She sighs. 

Months on the island, and she's no further in getting Luke to join the fight against the First Order than when she'd arrived. He refuses to teach her, forcefully enough to intimidate even her. When she presses him, he only repeats his ominous declarations about the Jedi. She couldn't care less about what the Jedi have done in the past. What she needs, what the entire Resistance needs, is a powerful Force user on their side now. She tries telling him what the First Order has done in his absence, pressing on when she sees him flinch. His only response to the news of the Hosnian system is a quiet, "I know." 

Beyond that, he refuses to acknowledge her. She's talked at him endlessly. Yelled, even pleaded, and in her most desperate moment, tried to knock him out and take him back to the general with the Force, but his powers as a Jedi remained intact even if he refuses to use them to help, and she's still untrained. He'd finally met her eyes after that, holding her back with an outstretched hand. His eyes are old and tired, and there is some buried pain in the look he gives her, but she refuses to feel sympathy for someone who refuses to do anything when people are being killed out in the galaxy, people he could save just by getting off his pfassking ass.

She's tried to train herself, fighting invisible enemies on the shores and cliffs of the island, trying to gain the same ease with the saber that she has with her staff. Sometimes she feels Luke watching, but that's all he ever does. All he's done for years: watch. She takes a vicious bite of the protein patty from the ration pack and glares at the fire. The general is counting on her, and she's beginning to think there's nothing she can do to drag the great last Jedi in the entire kriffing galaxy out of his self-imposed exile.

She sits, staring moodily into the flames as the darkness grows deeper and envelops the island. A few seabirds still call out, though the porgs have finally quieted for the night. The crash of waves and the crackle of flames fill the night, just as the smell of the fire blends with the ever present tang of saltwater in the air. Watching the fire blaze with the smoke trailing into the sky makes her nervous, but she restrains the urge to cover the flames. There's no one within lightyears to see her. She thinks bitterly that if the First Order did find them, it might finally inspire Luke to leave.

She realizes she's even more isolated here than she had been on Jakku. Chewie had taken the Falcon back with R2 after the first couple weeks, leaving her with a communicator and a promise to check back; the Resistance couldn't afford to be missing so many resources. But just as this thought occurs, there's the sound of stones slipping against each other on the path leading up to the cliff where she's set up camp. She jumps to her feet, staff off of the ground and in front of her in an instant, her hand belatedly drifting to the lightsaber on her hip afterwards.

Luke appears out of the night in his dark gray ropes, hands held up in a pacifying gesture, pointless as it is in his case, given his Force abilities. She lowers her staff slowly, looking at him suspiciously. Hope rises in her against her will, though she tries telling herself that he's likely only here to give her more cryptic advice on the dangers of the Jedi and the Force.

He clears his throat awkwardly. "Can I join you?" he asks, voice hoarse, gesturing to the ground next to her.

She hesitates, still unsure, then nods. Heedless of her staff in one hand and her other hand still on his saber, his settles himself on the ground next to her, cape billowing dramatically around him. She can't help herself from rolling her eyes. Between the clothes,the drama, and the moodiness, it's not all that hard to see where Kylo Ren came from. They even have the same opinion of the Jedi.

Luke simply sits there, taking up her task of staring at the fire. She waits, but he doesn't give any explanation, so, gritting her teeth, she sits back down next to him. They sit in silence, the ocean and the flames the only noise again.

Finally, Luke shifts, and she looks at him expectantly. "Leia...Leia commed me," he says, still showing every bit of the years he's spent without human company. Rey stares in amazement as he pulls the spare communicator she had given him from beneath his cloak. Well, not so much given as abandoned next to him. She’d left it with him after yet another day of useless entreaties. He hadn't reacted at all at the time, and she had gone through her training with even more than her usual violence that evening.

"What - what did she say?"

Luke snorts. "Plenty." Rey grins; she can imagine some of what the general has to say to her brother. "But, she did mention..." Luke reaches under his cloak again, and Rey furrows her brow when he withdraws a small cloth pouch. He holds it out to her and she takes it carefully. "It's your birthday?" he says, when she still looks confused by the gift.

Her eyes widen and she looks at the little pouch in a different way. She's been counting the days here, but she doesn't know how they line up with the standard calendar, and had forgotten about the day she had decided on with Doctor Kalonia. Setting the bag on the ground in front of her, she opens it with reverence as Luke watches. Inside are several handfuls of wrinkled, slightly squishy, roundish things. She takes one out and holds it in front of the fire, where she can see it’s a darkish purple.

"They're dried berries," Luke supplies, taking in her confusion. "I saw you didn't have much luck finding anything; they're not in season right now, and I remember what it was like living off those," he says, gesturing at the remnants of her ration pack.

She doesn't mind the ration packs, they're better tasting and more filling than portions, but she appreciates the thought all the same. Curious, she pops the berry into her mouth and her eyes widen. It's sweeter than she expected, tasting somehow like old sunshine. She rolls it around in her mouth and closes her eyes to savor it as much as possible. When the last of the flavor has been sucked from it, she slowly chews the remnants. She finally swallows, and opens her eyes to find Luke looking at her with all the force of the sadness that hangs around him like his cloak. She presses her lips together and digs around in the bag for another berry defensively. She wonders how long these will last. They're fresh, rather than portions, and she resists the urge to gorge herself on all of them now. There's enough in the bag to stretch over a few days at least.

"Where did you say you're from again?" Luke asks quietly.

"I didn't. Jakku," she replies shortly, not looking at him.

He's silent for a moment. "I grew up on a desert planet too," he says eventually.

She glances at him. "Yeah?"

He nods. "Tattooine," he says, and there's something wistful and regretful about the way he stares off into the darkness that she doesn't understand.

She looks down at the bag, debating with herself. Finally, she offers the open pouch to him. "Do you want one?" she asks gruffly, repeating to herself in her head that she has plenty of food with her, enough to last months more.

His head snaps back to her. "No! No." He half-smiles. "They're all yours. Happy birthday."

She takes the bag back gratefully and pops another into her mouth. "Thank you," she mumbles belatedly.

He shrugs. "It's not much. I'm glad you like them. I'd do more, but - " He gestures around them to the empty ocean.

Some of her irritation with him worms back in. "You could always come back," she says, not quite snapping.

He snorts. "Nice try."

She sets the bag down and pushes herself up. "They need you - " she begins, but he cuts her off.

"I am the last thing they need."

She grits her teeth. "That's not true, you don't - "

"No."

She leans back against the rock, glaring out at the stars. She draws her legs up, curling around the bag of berries in her hands, and eats another one vengefully.

Slowly, as the night goes on and Luke shows no sign of moving from his spot, she relaxes slightly and begins to drift off. It's in that place just before sleep that she thinks she hears him say, quietly, "I'm sorry." But the sound is lost to the hissing of the flames and another crashing wave.


	3. Nor will be ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is my piece for the Reylo Fanfiction Anthology! It stands alone, but also can fit in with the longer story.
> 
> Introducing the one true space emo

"An- An' to the Resistance!" Poe shouts, for the hundredth time that night. Or the thousandth, her memory is a little spotty by now. She raises her bottle with the rest of the group as they all cheer and take another drink. She watches Poe lean back and drink half of his bottle while standing on top of a crate across from her own at the edge of the group. Most of the pilots there are several drinks in, all proving to be well versed in holding these kinds of gatherings. The bottle she's holding is her second, and the world swims a bit as she looks around the room. Most people are gathered at the center of the hanger around Poe, laughing and cheering and holding onto each other, while others gather in pairs and groups along the edges. Some are still happily inebriated or nuzzling closer to their partners, like Finn and Rose, while others grip their bottles a little tighter, like her, the celebration and the alcohol not erasing deep set lines of worry.

"An' to the Concordance! And vict'ry!" Poe shouts again, now raising a mostly empty bottle.

"And this time we'll do it right!" someone in the crowd yells, raising an even louder cheer.

"No, no, no, l'sten," Poe slurs, crouching down on the crate and gesturing with his bottle over the crowd. "This," he says, motioning broadly at the hanger, "wasn't 'cause of the Con-concordance. Was the kriffing Imperials. And the kriffing First kriffing Order. And that kriffing asshole Snoke." He stands back up. "Fuck 'em!" he shouts loudly, raising his bottle to the roof. The crowds roars back, spilling drinks over each other. Poe swigs the last of his, then leans down to place it on the crate, missing and dropping it to the floor. He blinks at it in surprise before someone offers him another. "Thank you," he says, clinking bottles with them. "The general," he starts, and everyone groans good naturally.

"Give it up, Dameron!" one person shouts, and he flips them off, to laughter.

"No, shut up you nerf herders, this is important," Poe yells. "The general," he begins again, and Rey can tell he's about to start in again on Poe Dameron's Complete, Unabridged, and Absolutely Accurate, I-Swear-On-My-X-Wing (The Best One There Is), History of the Rebellion.

She slips from her crate. Much as she loves hearing about her childhood heroes, it's not the same anymore. [Han Solo, killed by his own son. The mythical Luke Skywalker refusing to help when the galaxy needed him more than ever. Princess, now General, Leia, weighed down and looking more tired every day. And the Empire, not defeated in a blaze of glory, reincarnated and tearing apart the galaxy.]

She walks across the darkened base to the barracks and finds her room. She doesn't bother with the lights once inside, simply curls up in the nest she's made in her narrow single bunk. The moonlight filters through her small window and lights the small plants in various odd containers carefully arranged on the sill, including the one Finn had given her today. He had been so excited, after celebrating his first birthday on the base a couple months before, and had handed her the pot with the gigantic orange flower barely supported by its stem with all the reverence the situation required. She smiles to see the flower soaking up the moonlight, but then her chest clenches again, and she turns to face the wall.

The general had wished her a happy birthday too and made sure she had gotten cake with candles after supper. Guilt had nearly swamped her as she'd mumbled her thanks, and the sweet cake stuck in her throat.

She does what she can on the base, working on repairs in the hanger mostly, but it's not what the general and the Resistance really needs from her. The most important task, and she'd failed. The general had called her back to base after a year spent on Ahch-To, saying she'd be more valuable there. So now she’s back with the Resistance, without Luke, without training, without any way to stand up to Kylo Ren the next time they meet. Far from the stories of the heroes she'd admired, she's likely to be Force frozen and tossed aside next time she goes into battle.

His offer to help her forces its way to the front of her mind, the words echoing.

She turns over again on the bed, replaying again in her head the last time she had battled with the lightsaber. The memory isn't as sharp as it once was, but she goes over each move, each misstep that could have gotten her killed if her enemy wasn't already injured. She tries to concentrate on Kylo Ren, to refresh her memory of him moving about erratically, and wonders what he would be like at full strength, thinking back to their very brief fight on the forest at Takodana. There he'd barely had to do anything more than walk towards her. She had given better on Starkiller, but that didn't say much about the next time they would meet. 

She wonders how much of his form is from Snoke, and how much Luke taught him. It's another mark against her that all she knows about fighting back comes from the man she's fighting against. The images swim about, and it’s difficult to remember what’s a memory and what’s a nightmare, or a vision. His offer to teach her during their battle plays through her head and she grits her teeth. The words echo in through her mind and she _shoves_ at them, tries to grab at them and strangle them. It doesn’t stop, only seeming to grow louder.

_"Scavenger."_

She can almost hear his voice in her ear, taunting her.

_"Scavenger, I am trying to sleep."_

She jolts upright, eyes wide open. She really had heard his voice, as if he was in the same room.

She feels a sense of amusement. _"Not quite. Though if you'd give me your location, I could oblige."_

Her heart beats faster and she tries to think of anything other than where she is. "Get out of my head," she snarls aloud.

Irritation this time. _"You are the one who pulled me into this...connection."_

"I did not!"

_"Didn't Skywalker teach you anything?"_

Her lips thin and she tries to close off her feelings of hurt and rejection.

Either he senses them anyway, or her silence is enough. _"My offer remains open."_

"Go kriff yourself."

A sigh, then everything is quiet. She waits, wondering if he's left...whatever this is, then mentally prods at where she'd heard his voice.

She hears him grunt in annoyance, which is an odd sensation. _"Still here, scavenger."_

"Go away."

_"Stop bothering me and I would."_

"I'm not doing anything!"

He sighs again and she feels him roll over in his bed. She flushes. This is not how she'd expected to next confront her enemy. _"How can you not know --"_ She feels something prod at her this time and shakes her head, frowning, to dispel the feeling. _"You're-- you're drunk,"_ he says, disconcerted.

"Am not." She certainly doesn't feel as tipsy as she did coming back, but if she thinks about it, her head is still fuzzy and not as steady as it should be.

 _"You are,"_ he says decisively. _"What does the Resistance have to celebrate?"_

"Why do you care?"

_"I'm curious as to why I'm being kept from sleeping."_

It's clear he's not going anywhere. "It's my birthday," she huffs.

He jerks upright in his bed at that, and she furrows her brows at the intensity of his emotions to such a benign statement. _"_ Your _birthday?"_

She rolls her eyes. "Yes, my birthday. It comes every year apparently."

 _"It didn't used to,"_ he says bluntly and she flushes angrily at the reminder of how he's invaded her memories. _"Couldn't leave me anything, could you, scavenger? Had to take that too?"_

"What the kriff are you on about?" she says, angry and confused.

 _"It's_ my _birthday."_

The knowledge jolts her uncomfortably, and she wonders if Doctor Kalonia knew when the date for her own birthday had been assigned. She strikes back defensively. "What does it matter to you? Were you going to have a party on the Finalizer? Force the stormtroopers to sing? Maybe your Supreme Leader can get you another planet to destroy as a present."

 _"That wasn't - I didn't -"_ He breaks off in a snarl. _"That's not the point. It wasn't yours, desert rat, you stole it from me. Always the scavenger; it's all you do. The soldier, the lightsaber, then - "_ He cuts himself off abruptly, and instead she's left with a torrent of tangled emotions and memories, wrapped in his anger. She glimpses pieces as he tries to restrain himself, the Falcon on Takodana, the red-drenched interior of Starkiller base, a child clinging, the rush of her own memories as she was restrained to the interrogation chair - _"He would have disappointed you"..._

Panting, she rips herself out of his thoughts, which continue to flare out of control even as he tries to bury them. "That was you," she says viciously, burning with anger. "I didn't steal anything, that was all you, your choice, you - " The lingering effects of the alcohol only spur her anger. "You killed him," she snarls, and is satisfied and surprised to feel pain from him in response, as the jab stabs at what feels like a sheet pulled tight over a dark jagged chasm. "You killed him, and destroyed everything they'd worked for, your mother, your uncle. You might as well have killed them to. How _dare_ you."

He doesn't say anything, but the feeling she has of him is loud enough. He's a boiling mess of poisonous emotions. The anger she expects, but the guilt and regret and pain she doesn't, and they cover him, festering. She pulls back slightly, trying to block herself off from the worst of it, the same instinctual reaction as seeing a dead steelpecker in the desert being fed on by others, blood and guts spilling out from its dark carcass and onto the sand. The fear she'd seen the last time she'd visited his mind is still there, looming even larger in the background, tangled threads weaving a dark tapestry of legacy and expectation and failure. 

She sits silently on her bed, watching as the mess that is Kylo Ren rages on the other side of the delicate connection between them. She flinches when one moment hits too close, but otherwise she feel a kind of bitter satisfaction in his pain, after all the Resistance has gone through to fight the cause he champions. He doesn't calm as time passes, only grows more turbulent.

It's in a lull between the crest of one emotion and the next that she finally hears his voice again, cracked and stumbling over the short phrase, barely more than a whisper: _"I'm sorry."_

She freezes. If she had imagined that she would be talking to Kylo Ren today, likely the last thing she would have expected to hear from him would have been an apology. She doesn't know what to make of it. "I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she finally says.

His emotions spike again and she gasps, caught off guard. Her own chest aches in response and she rubs at it, feeling vaguely sick. _"I know."_

They fall quiet again, both overwhelmed and struggling. Her thoughts chase one another, her anger for what he's done, confusion, mixed with traitorous sympathy. She wonders if he could be tricking her, but the unrestrained flood on the other side of the connection doesn't seem to leave any room for deceit. For all his many sins, trickery hasn't been one of them.

She swallows, throat dry. "Why?"

It takes a moment for the word to penetrate. Once it does, he responds with a hollow laugh. _"Which part?"_

"Any of it."

Images flash across the connection again, but more purposeful now, hesitating at first, then faster, like he can't stop now that he's started. A voice in his head, much like this, and she draws back instinctively, but he clings to her. Years of whispers, never really sure if it's real or not, if anything's real, then one lie, a breaking point, over who can really be trusted. She sees what must be Snoke welcoming Kylo with his new name, and flinches at his possessive touch. Then everything she knows, or has heard of, and this, this is why she can't feel sympathy for him, and he feels that and knows and accepts it (it's what he deserves). It fits in with everything else, years of hate, and it's always too late, just want it all to stop - thought it would help, but just made it worse, so much worse, just want it to be over, please... 

Silence.

 _"It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,"_ he says, with a full awareness of how empty his words sound.

She doesn't know what to say to that, isn't sure there is anything to say in the face of all of that. She runs through lines of thoughts, but there's no conclusion, no ultimate judgement or decision. It remains a charged and unwieldy mess between them.

She begins to drift off, thoughts looping back on themselves. It's late, and the conversation and the party have taken their toll. She still feels Kylo, not tired, but lost in his own thoughts. His attention jolts back to her at the light probe, as if he's forgotten she's there.

He pauses, then: _"Happy birthday, scavenger."_

She hesitates as well before replying. "Happy birthday, Kylo Ren," she mumbles.

His surprise is the last thing she remembers before she falls asleep. _"Thank you."_


	4. The dead grow for His joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...it's not been a whole month yet, and that's really what counts here, right?
> 
> Introducing pain

Rey runs across the snow from where they've landed to the hidden entrance in the rocks. The distance isn't far, but it seems to stretch forever as she expects to hear tie fighters overhead or see snowtroopers burst out from behind any of the massive rocks surrounding them and attack at any moment. Her mind is blank from anything besides making it into the bunker, and then taking the next step from there. She was the first one off the ship, but Kylo and Luke are close behind her. Kylo catches her up easily, then keeps pace with her as they sprint the rest of the distance. She's not sure yet how she feels about fighting with him by her side (it's been a few months since he defected, but the Resistance leaders only recently decided that they could risk using his information), but anything is worth taking down Snoke, and they would never have found the Supreme Leader's hideaway without him.

The General is leading the rest of the Resistance on the other side of the planet, occupying the First Order's forces. The Resistance is eager for the fight, certain that the anniversary of the end of the last war can only mean good luck for them. For Rey, she would have forgotten the date if Finn hadn’t offered her a muffled “Happy birthday” as they’d hugged goodbye that morning, and luck is a hard thing to believe in anymore.

Luke is behind them, struggling to keep up, after having decided, reluctantly, to take her offer when she showed up on Ahch-To again, telling him that they were attacking Snoke, with him or without. She sends a concerned thought back to him, but he rebuffs her impatiently, and she directs her attention forward once more.

They arrive at the sunken entrance, ducking under the icy overhang and stumbling down the short incline to the door, Luke not far behind. Rey watches, panting, as Kylo rips off a glove with his teeth and then drags it against the rough rock, breaking open the skin. He clenches his fist until blood wells and drips then presses it to a clear circle of stone with a scratched sigil Rey doesn't recognize. He closes his eyes and Rey feels the press of the Force. With a grinding shudder, the stone sinks into the ground beneath them. Kylo tenses and Rey prods at him mentally, worried. The three of them have agreed to be open to each other for the sake of this mission, but instead of an impending trap or threat, she sees the last time he was here, when Snoke brought him to initiate him. She pulls back quickly before she sees more; she doesn't need additional distraction for what they're about to do, and she’s already seen enough of his experiences with the First Order to keep her up at night.

A dark opening looms in front of them. Rey pulls out her lightsaber and ignites it, prompting a swift indrawn breath from Luke. She ignores it and extends the saber, showing that the path continues further down. She ducks into the entrance, Kylo and then Luke following, igniting their own sabers. She has to restrain herself from flinching from the red glow of Kylo's out of the corner of her eye. He notices and gives a bitter smirk. Shaking him off, she focuses instead on the dark stone surrounding them and leading them further into the planet. As soon as the hem of Luke's cloak has cleared the entrance, the stone slides back up with a foreboding crash. 

The multicolored glow of the sabers lights the walls eerily as they walk. Rey extends herself in the Force as far as she can, grateful as she passes over Kylo and Luke that they're better trained than she is and can restrain their presence in the Force enough to keep her from getting distracted. The sense of the place freezes her internally as much as the outside had. She huddles further into her heavy coat. The path only gets colder the further they go, and even Kylo shivers slightly.

The walk to Snoke's sanctum takes forever and no time at all. The path branches off every once in a while, splitting into identical lightless halls of stone, but Kylo never hesitates. He guides them unerringly further into the planet, his frozen expression and stiff posture never changing. The door appears in front of them out of the endless walls all of a sudden, and Rey stops short behind Kylo. His shoulders are tense under his cloak, and his fingers tighten around his saber. He still hasn't replaced his gloves, and she can see the remnants of his blood on his clenched fist. 

The doors in front of them loom up into the darkness, higher than the light of their lightsabers can reach. Rey looks at them and sets her chin. Quickly, she turns off her saber and shucks off her many layers of winter clothing. The tunnel is still cold enough to chill her to the bones, but she needs the flexibility more than anything now. She can warm herself in other ways. Kylo glances back at her and nods tightly, then copies her, removing his much lighter coat. With her layers, he’s relit his saber and is standing ready by the time she extricates herself. He stares at the doors and Rey has to restrain herself from prodding at his mental barriers and at the mess she feels brewing beneath to get some idea of what they’re about to face. Slowly, Kylo raises a hand, but before he reaches out to touch the door, it opens on its own.

Conflict and apprehension roll off Kylo in waves, but he squares his shoulders and walks forward nonetheless. Rey follows, wary, trying to see deeper into the darkness than their sabers will show. The feeling of Luke’s calm resignation behind her doesn’t do much for her confidence. A faint blue light glows at the end of the hall, casting far enough for Rey to see the formerly polished dark stone that makes up the floor, now riddled with deep cracks. As they approach, boots echoing into the vastness of the hall, a shape resolves under the weak light, a humanoid figure on a tall throne. Rey wants to rush forward and attack, but she keeps pace with Kylo. They’ve already lost any chance at surprise. 

A force stops them just before they reach the base of the throne, feet suddenly unable to take another step. Rey looks up, finally seeing for herself the creature she’s only seen in glimpses in Kylo’s memories. It looks wraith-like and impossibly old, a natural inhabitant of the deep caves, used to only the single ray of frozen light that somehow wormed its way down from the surface. Its size is hard to guess with their position beneath it. 

“So,” Snoke hisses, voice soft yet echoing. “At last.”

Kylo raises his saber and tightens his grip, flanked by Rey and Luke who do the same. 

Snoke laughs, and the sound sends an icy chill down Rey’s spine. “Look at you. The boy too weak to take the power offered to him. The man who couldn’t save his own family.” Its eyes flick to Rey, and the chill washes over her skin, sinking deep. She feels it in her head, and she lashes back instinctively. The creature’s lips curl. “And nobody. A child without even her own name.”

Kylo charges, dashing up to the throne, saber blazing. Snoke lifts a hand, and he’s thrown backward, landing on his back on the floor. Luke reaches out his own hand, closing his eyes. The throne shakes minutely, then Snoke makes a sharp gesture, and Luke is thrown to the floor as well. Barely thinking, Rey runs forward, managing to climb several steps of the throne before she’s frozen, mid-step. She tries to break free, fighting against the hold paralyzing her, but it’s all-encompassing. 

Snoke stands. Slowly, he descends from the throne, robes draping behind him. He reaches Rey and glances at her dispassionately, eyes as cold and ice blue as the light from above. Lazily, he extends a hand and cups her chin. Rey’s still frozen, mouth forced shut, but she screams. His touch is a freezing brand, sending shock like shards of glass throughout her, tearing her apart from the inside. Her throat burns with her repressed pain and her sight blurs and begins to fade to darkness at the edges. She falls backwards, limbs losing their hold. The blunt impact of the stone only registers in the background of her consciousness. 

Snoke walks past her to Kylo, who's risen to his knees. “Tell me, Kylo Ren,” he says, the sound of the name echoed in his steps on the cold stone floor. “What finally convinced you to betray me? Was it for the family that abandoned you? Was it her?” he hisses, jerking his chin back towards Rey. He reaches out a hand and presses it against Kylo's cheek, cupping his face. Kylo lets out a strangled cry, but it cuts off quickly as he forces his jaw closed, gritting his teeth. Strain cords his neck as Snoke's fingers press into his face, thumb digging into the scar Rey left. 

“Pathetic,” Snoke sneers. 

Luke struggles to his feet from the floor, but a gesture from Snoke sends him back down again with a sickening crack. Snoke continues talking almost carelessly, ignoring Kylo’s struggles as he digs his claws in. “Everything you've worked for, all the sacrifices you've made, all for you to succumb to your doubts now. You always were a disappointment. I could have made you so much _better_. But you’re weak, like your grandfather, and as foolish as your father.” Kylo grunts, and Snoke laughs, the sound like shards of glass . Slowly, tortuously, Kylo reaches for his fallen saber. Snoke notices and laughs again. 

“Go on then, Kylo Ren. Kill me, like you killed him. May it bring you just as much satisfaction.” His hand clenches further, piercing Kylo’s face, and blood runs down to his wrist, dripping to the floor. “Though,” he says, leaning closer, so his face nearly touches Kylo’s, “you'll find I don't go down as easily as your worthless sire.” 

Kylo glares at the creature that is so obviously enjoying making him bleed, but his hand with the saber is stopped in midair, finger poised over the switch, but unable to touch it. The entire room is motionless, Kylo and Snoke locked in their struggle, Snoke waiting eagerly for Kylo’s next attempt at defiance, Luke laying unmoving, and Rey too stunned to raise herself from the floor. Silence reigns, even though Rey can feel the battle in the Force, both here and out on the planet. Snoke’s power is overwhelming, taking a form she doesn’t recognize or understand. Kylo resists, his methods born of practice, but he can’t maintain his defense for long. 

Outside, the fight rages on as well, both sides locked, neither having the advantage. They managed to catch the First Order by surprise, but their enemy still has more resources than they could ever hope for. 

In her dazed state, Rey can almost feel the rush of the starships as they race around the planet, crisscrossing trails in a deadly dance, growing more dangerous every time another ship fails. Thousands upon thousands in the air, and even more on the planet below. Their pinpricks in the Force blaze across Rey's consciousness, dizzying and terrifying, so many lives, dragging her away from the fight in front of her. She knows Kylo and Snoke feel it as well, focused as they are on each other, the presence of all those whose fates hang in the balance pressing in on them. 

Most of the signatures blend with each other, some humanoids impossible to distinguish what side they're on. The stormtroopers melt together almost entirely, except for Finn, who helps lead the attack on the surface against the planet's artillery. Up in the air, the general's ship immediately pulls her attention, Leia’s presence large enough to eclipse those around her. She's directing the Resistance’s scattered forces, while her own ship is engaged in battle with the bulk of the Order’s fleet. And in the background, Rey feels her reaching out to the planet, wanting to reassure herself of the safety of her brother and son and Rey. She's stretched thin but doesn't falter, taking each hit and loss with resigned practice. Another fleet of tie fighters comes up on her ship from behind and the lights flicker as the ship shakes. Leia clenches the arms of her seat and Kylo finches. Snoke laughs. 

“There,” he says, sunken cheek brushing his captive’s face. “You'll live just long enough to see the end of this useless Resistance. And to think, you could have been its conqueror, master of it all.“ His hand clenches again, and Kylo's lips tighten, bloodless. 

Above, the tie fighters make another volley at the Resistance command ship. They come almost continually now, while larger ships continue their barrage from a distance. The Resistance ships attempt to interfere, diving and breaking up the formations, distracting the ships from their target, but it isn't enough. Leia's ship is battered back and forth, only just managing to stay firm under the attacks. They fire back at the enemy, but as the tie fighters swarm them, there are too many targets, and too many lucky shots hitting their weapons. A trio of tie fighters passes over the fore of the ship, weapons targeted on the bridge. Kylo cries out as they fire, a useless warning. The blasts hit the already damaged hull, and the sector explodes, debris rushing out into space. 

“No!” Kylo screams, and Snoke laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and surrounding them. 

Without direction, the enormous flagship slowly falls, subject to the planet's gravity. All ships have already launched, and most of the flurry of escape pods are quickly descended upon by the flock of dark tie fighters surrounding their kill. 

Rey closes her eyes. The hole in the Force is enormous and overwhelming, pulling her into its gaping maw. Tears stream from the corner of her eyes down to the floor. Distantly, she can her Snoke, taunting Kylo. 

“And there it is,” he says, voice soft and pervasive. “The end of the Resistance. How does it feel to be an orphan, boy, just like your beloved grandfather.” He sneers. “You both amounted to nothing in the end.”

Straining, fighting against the despair that pulls at her and the pain in every inch of her body, Rey raises her head for a clearer look at the room. Kylo is limp in Snoke's hold, his head resting in the monster's clawed hands. Snoke draws back, looking at Kylo dispassionately, a scientist looking at a specimen no longer worth his time. 

“The last of the Skywalkers,” he says. “A pity.”

His hands twitch, preparing to deal the final blow, but Rey beats him to it. With reserves of strength she didn't know she had, she shoves herself up from the floor, grabbing her fallen saber. She lunges forward, within arms’ reach of Snoke, and with a broad sweep, she ignites her saber and slashes it across Snoke's back. He roars, releasing Kylo and arching backwards. Before he can attempt to turn, Rey is on him again, plunging her saber into his back. A flare of light flashes around his hands briefly, a last attempt to save himself through the Force, before he falls to the floor, lifeless.

Rey stands over him, panting, saber still humming. She collapses to her knees, hitting the stone floor hard. She kneels across the body from Kylo, who hasn't moved from where Snoke dropped him. He looks up at her blankly. She stares back. 

“It's over,” he says. She doesn't know whether he means Snoke or his mother or the war but she nods.

He sways, then falls forward from his position on his knees. She catches him. They lean into each other. Her arms rest around his back, and his come up to wrap around her, clutching a little desperately, like he doesn't know what else to do. 

Above, the battle still rages on. The First Order has no way of knowing the loss of their leader, and Rey doubts their general would care. The Resistance fights all the harder for the loss of theirs. 

The Order ships have collapsed into the hole left by Leia’s ship, surrounded by the Resistance fleet that had come to her aid. The Resistance is successfully corralling the enemy, picking them off from the outside. Resistance x wings fly quick and close to their targets, keeping them off balance. They're nimble enough that more than one pair of tie fighters collide in their wake. The Resistance may not have the force necessary to take down the Order’s entire fleet, but they're holding them off for the moment. Long enough for…

Rey jerks, remembering the general's briefing. The Resistance couldn't destroy the First Order in one blow. They're there to accomplish their mission. They need to get out, let the others know what's happened, before more of her friends are sacrificed. Shakily, she stands, jolting Kylo, who looks up at her, still lost. 

“We have to go,” she says hoarsely.

He doesn't show any signs of understanding, so with a grunt of effort, she loops his arm around her neck and pulls him to his feet, nearly collapsing back to the floor herself. When she lets go, he stands, swaying, and she goes to Luke, who still hasn't moved. She grabs his shoulder and shakes, and his eyes slowly blink open, bleary and unfocused. 

“Rey?” he rasps. “What-?”

Groaning, he lifts his head and looks past her to see Kylo standing over the remains of his former master. 

“Oh,”he says, leaning back. His eyes begin to slip closed again. 

“No, we need to leave!” she insists, shaking him again. 

“Just leave me,” he says in a whisper. Rey grits her teeth. 

Just as she'd done to Kylo, she pulls Luke's arm around her neck and raises him up. He's much lighter than his nephew, but her legs are shaking by the time they're standing. 

“Kylo,” she says, jerking him out of his contemplation of Snoke’s body. “Help me with him.”

He hesitates, then joins her. He takes Luke's other side, fumbling as he grabs his uncle's arm. Together, they shamble towards the door, Rey gritting her teeth as they lean towards her. Kylo takes them back out into the narrow halls, retracing their path from earlier. 

In a stroke of fate Rey could almost believe Leia had guided in the Force, the Resistance flagship lands directly on the planet's main facility. The impact shakes the planet, setting loose shocks across the surface. In the tunnels, rocks tumble down the walls, clattering around them. Kylo swallows, looking close to breaking down, but forces himself onward. The door isn't far now. Kylo leans on a panel in the wall, no blood this time, and the stone sinks into the ground. They stumble out into the dim light, dust and debris floating through the air while the sky is filled with multicolored flashes. 

The distance to the ship looks just as far as it did earlier, and Rey curses herself for not managing to set it down any closer. Readjusting her grip on Luke and pulling his arm tighter around her neck, she leads the awkward group across the boulder-strewn ground.

She’s gasping for breath by the time they round the last rock and reach the Falcon. She and Kylo stagger up the ramp, nearly dropping Luke on the floor once they’re safely in. He lands mostly on the bunk, which has to be good enough for now. Rey stands, shaking, trying to catch her breath. Kylo doesn’t move from next to her, his eyes glassy. A blast from nearby rocks the ship.

“We need to get out of here,” she gasps, barely audible.

Kylo is still unresponsive. She grabs his arm and digs her nails him, pulling on him. “Kylo!”

He shudders, as if waking from a dream, and looks at her, “We need to get back to the base.” He nods, and slowly puts one foot in front of the other. Not letting go of his arm, she drags him to the cockpit, then shoves him down in the copilot’s seat. 

“Start the engines,” she orders. It takes a moment for the words to register, but he responds, flicking switches and checking readouts, pace increasing as he goes. 

On her side, she grabs the comm. “Rogue team to Rogue leader, mission completed. Target eliminated. We're ready to go.”

There's a brief silence where she holds her breath, hoping her message is received. Then the Admiral’s loud and triumphant over the comm. “Loud and clear, Rogue Team. Meet you at base.”

She breathes a sigh of relief, and replaces the comm. She glances back to Kylo, who has a death grip on the controls, as if they’re the only thing holding him together. Not wasting any more time, she makes the final preparations, and the ship lurches beneath them. Her flying is far from the best she’s done, but it’s good enough. None of the First Order’s ships notice them before they’ve lifted off from the planet and through the atmosphere. The fighting is already breaking up as the Resistance ships retreat, and Rey dodges through what’s left before taking off into space. The comforting darkness of hyperspace envelops them.

Rey collapses. It will be hours before they arrive at D’Qar. She knows she should go back to check on Luke, make sure he hasn’t been tossed around too badly, but the last of her energy is spent. She watches the stars speed past and the tears begin to fall.


	5. Dark is a way and light is a place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I love the line I used for this chapter title, now is as good a time as any to link the poem I used for inspiration and as the source for all the chapter titles: [On His Birthday, by Dylan Thomas](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/poem-on-his-birthday/)

The sounds of this year’s anniversary celebration follow Rey as she slips away from the room and out into the night. She breathes in the cool air outside gratefully, leaning back against the chilled metal of the building. The Resistance has plenty to celebrate, with the First Order all but eliminated, helped by the support of what’s left of the Republic. But behind the enthusiastic partying, the ever present knowledge of what they’ve lost to get accomplish everything remains. Especially now, a year since the General fell, and less than that since they gathered for her funeral. Rey tips her head back, staring up at the stars. Tears burn at the corner of her eyes. 

She’s lucky, she knows, compared to some inside. She still has Finn, and Rose and Poe by association. She’d barely known the general for long, compared to those who had been fighting with her since the Rebellion. But the logic of the situation doesn’t seem to matter. Thinking of the general still hurts, like the swooping feeling of emptiness of walking along solid ground and taking another step only to find nothing there.

Luke has disappeared again, off to some even more obscure corner of the galaxy. She doubts he’s left any clues behind this time. Now that she has some knowledge of the Force, she might be able to find him if she tried, but she doesn’t see the point. She can understand his need to lick his wounds in peace. There’s nothing left for him here. And as talk on the base turns increasingly towards the end of the war, and the Resistance members talk about going home and starting new lives, she thinks she understands him more and more. 

Aside from the overflowing mess hall, the base is quiet, dark and still in the depths of the night. Everyone has gathered for comfort, and even the usual stragglers who would be wandering around on nights like this have joined in. Except…

Reaching out across the base with the Force, Rey can feel one other person on their own. Brushing past him, she instantly recognizes who it is, and can’t be at all surprised. Pushing herself off of the wall, she quietly walks around the edge of the base to where she can sense him, next to the main hangar. As she approaches, a small pinpoint of light shines out of the darkness, pale and muted. When she’s close enough, she can see the light is in the cockpit of one of the tie fighters sitting next to the hangar, barely illuminating the face of the man inside as he frowns fiercely at the machine’s dash. She keeps her approach stealthy, dimming her presence in the Force, until she stands next to the x wing. 

“Need help?” she calls up, just loud enough for him to hear her. 

He swears and jumps, hitting his head on the roof of the tie fighter, and swears again. He turns, glaring, and unlatches the top of the cockpit to look down at her. “What do you want?” he whispers harshly.

She stares evenly back up, considering him. Kylo has become the base’s resident ghost in the year since his mother’s death. He appears when summoned to give whatever information he has left about the First Order, but those summons happen less and less as the year goes on. She can feel him sometimes, in the woods surrounding the base, practicing forms, the same patterns over and over again. She’s thought about approaching him more than once, to take advantage of the only other person she knows of who could help her better understand her connection with the Force, but never followed through. She’s watched, sometimes, never close enough for him to see, but still learning the motions he constantly retraces. It always seems almost sacrilegious to interrupt, though she wonders if he knows. He simply remains a presence in the back of her mind, flaring some days, almost disappearing on others, but never far away.

“What are you doing?” she finally says.

“What does it look like?” he grumbles, turning back to the exposed wires he’s pried up from the dash.

“Can’t you just use the Force?”

He throws an impressively even more scathing glare over to her. She ignores it and pulls herself up onto the wing and crouches next to the cockpit. He hunches over with his back to her. “Where are you going?” she prods.

He shrugs, not stopping in his fiddling. 

“Without saying goodbye?” As soon as she says it, she regrets it. It’s something Finn has said to her, when she nearly rushes off on a mission without letting him know, and the words slipped out without her thinking.

He looks back at her with eyebrows raised. “To who?”

Even if she shouldn’t expect anything from him, the words still hurt. She hadn’t realized before faced with the prospect of him leaving how much she relied on his presence. Just having another him on the base, someone else who was Force-sensitive and lost, was a strange sort of comfort, one she’s not ready to give up.

He seems to have noticed her hurt, and looks down guiltily. “I didn’t think you’d care,” he mutters.

She doesn’t meet his eyes, but slips down further so she can lean over the mess he’s made of the control panel. “Well, I do.” She fiddles with the wires, thoughts far away from the mechanics of it all. Maybe she’s not thinking straight, and she’ll regret it later, but she comes to a decision quickly. She stands. “Come on, we’ll take the Falcon.” She jumps down from the ship and looks back up at him expectantly.

“We - what?” His mouth hangs open in his confusion, and a smile stretches across her face.

“If the Falcon is anyone’s, it’s yours or mine. They won’t need it anymore anyway.” She turns and walks across the darkened grounds to where the Falcon is settled in the grass. It’s only a moment before she hears a thump and heavy footsteps following her. His hand settles on her shoulder and pulls her around to face him.

“What are you doing?” he demands, eyes searching hers.

“We’re leaving,” she says, matter-of-factly. “Unless you were just taking that x wing out for a joyride?”

He scowls. “I didn’t ask for you to come with me. What about everyone here, all your _friends_?”

She hesitates. She thinks of Finn, who looks at Rose like he can see their future together. She knows he still loves her, and she loves him, but he deserves the chance to make his own life, without worrying about her. “They have each other,” she tells him. “Besides, it’s not forever.” 

“It might be a while,” he insists, still scowling.

She shrugs. “I was never going to stay here anyway.” She turns and continues walking to the Falcon. “Come on, it’ll be my birthday present to you, making sure you’re not still sitting there trying to get that tie fighter started by the time people wake up tomorrow.”

She can feel his glare on the back of her head. “I would have gotten it.”

She snorted. “You didn’t even have the right wires out.”

He doesn’t respond, but walks faster. His ears turn bright red where they poke out from his hair. She smirks. 

The Falcon’s ramp lowers for them once they arrive, and they walk up together. He enters the cockpit first, and moves to take the pilot’s chair, but she corrects him with a quick shove. He glares again, but complies. 

“Where to?” she says, starting the preparations for takeoff.

He does the same on his side. “Anywhere. Somewhere far away.”

She hums. “Somewhere green.” 

He looks up at her from leaning over the navigation, and she see the beginnings of a soft smile on his lips before he looks down again. “Green,” he repeats. “I can do that.” He programs in coordinates she doesn’t recognize, and she feels a thrill of excitement run through her. Missions don’t leave much time for sightseeing, and she’s still seen so little of the galaxy. The last of her doubts start to fade as she finishes their preparations. 

She looks over at him. “Ready?”

He nods. “Ready.”

With a final flick, the ship lifts from the ground. It hovers for a moment, and then they’re gone, disappearing into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters are all angst and introspection (as opposed to the rest of this) and will be a little longer in coming while I try to finish and post a couple other fics before tlj. I intend to wrap this one up by then too, but this seemed a good spot to pause for the moment. Please let me know what you think! Feedback means a lot <3

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out the rest of the anthology pieces! ([tumblr masterpost with ebook links](https://reylofanfictionanthology.tumblr.com/), [ao3 collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Celebrate_the_Waking)) Everyone did such incredible work and I'm so honored to be a part of this.
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](https://thewayofthetrashcompactor.tumblr.com). I'd really love to hear what you think!


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